


Don't Fall Before I Can Catch You

by polychromatism



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Art School Laurent, Camping, I guess its canon now or something, I've seen like three separate fics that depict damen having a red pick up truck so I'm tagging that, M/M, Modern AU, Past Child Abuse, Technical Engineer Student Damen, ballet laurent, gay camping, rlly rlly gay camping you guys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-17
Updated: 2016-04-17
Packaged: 2018-06-02 18:37:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,519
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6577918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/polychromatism/pseuds/polychromatism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I mean listen</p><p>camping is good,,,,, sometimes</p>
            </blockquote>





	Don't Fall Before I Can Catch You

**Author's Note:**

> I want to give a huge thanks to thecaptiveroyals for editing this for me and taking No Prisoners™ while doing so, and also for just being really great.

 

“Come on, Laurent! You **never** go camping!” Laurent rolled his eyes and sighed into the speaker. “When was the last time you even looked at a tree?”

 

“Very amusing. But I simply can’t, I’ll be busy with school this weekend.” The tea kettle boiled fervently. He balanced the phone on one shoulder to pour hot water into a white ceramic mug. 

 

“Bullshit. You finished your piece last weekend. Don’t try to worm your way out of this one, Lau.”

 

“ _Vannes-“_ , he set the mug down and leaned on the counter, running a free hand through golden strands of hair. Sunlight poured in through the window and illuminated the white tiles where the cup lay. It _was_ considerably nice weather, and was expected to hold through the weekend.

  


“ _Please_ , it’ll be fun. I **promise**.” She was excellent at socially cornering him. Laurent made a mental note to block it promptly next time the situation arose.

 

“...Who will be there?” Laurent posed, and Vannes made an exasperated noise into the line. It’s not as if the blond was _interested_ in wasting a perfectly peaceful weekend with loud brutes he had never once met.

 

“Just a few of my pol-sci friends; I already told them I’m bringing you. Please? They’re really, really great, I promise. Perfectly smart and civilized people.”

 

Laurent was about to open his mouth to protest the last comment, when he started at the sound of keys jamming into the front door. His face paled before he had time to grimace as scalding tea splashed onto the fabric of his shirt. 

 

Uncle was home early.

 

“Okay, _okay_ , I will go.” High pitched squealing came from the other end and Laurent winced, holding the phone away. “One condition, however.”

 

* * *

 

Nicaise perched happily in the front seat of Vannes’ aged compact SUV, an open box of trail mix in hand. The back of the car was crammed with gear, and Laurent stepped out of the garage with the last of his and his brother’s bags.

 

“Hey, Monster.” Vannes poked her head through the window at Nicaise. “You all ready to go?”  


“Why, is he done packing up the whole house yet?”  


Laurent shot Nicaise a withering look from the sunlit pavement and closed the trunk. “I’m quite positive I only brought what is necessary.”

 

Nicaise snorted and shoveled more M&M’s in his mouth, “Yeah, like an entire case of books, three bottles of sunblock, and a portable heater. Really getting into the camping spirit, bro.”

 

Laurent allowed himself a smile and said nothing as they buckled in. Vannes shoved the keys in the ignition. “You sure your uncle’s okay with this?”

 

“I told him we’d be home by Tuesday, and that there will be a considerable lack of fireworks on Monday.” Which, of course, is not all Laurent told his uncle. There was a period of argument between the two, to which Laurent had told him to ‘ _kindly, fuck off_ ”, and received a drawling speech about respect to Laurent’s elders and safety being priority. Laurent omitted this part.

“Good enough. Just don’t get too excited about that last part.” A wicked look developed in Nicaise’s eyes when he heard this, accompanied by a devilish grin. They pulled out of the parking lot and began the two hour trip towards the mountains. Vannes had a mountain folk playlist on her iPhone, and two-thirds of the way there the car crunched over uneven gravel, and Nicaise complained about having to pee.

 

When they arrived at 3:00 there was still sun in the sky, and the breeze was warm enough to lounge in. The campsite was spacious enough to fit four tents comfortably. A torrent of water was audible from where they parked. Provided was a fire pit cluttered with previously left garbage, a picnic table, and a short trail blanketed with oak trees which led down to the river.

 

Vannes unpacked the cooler. “We must be early. I think they’ll be here soon but I can’t get any signal and I think they left around 1:00.”

 

“Alright. I’ll unpack our stuff. Will you take Nicaise to find a bathroom?”

 

“I can do it myself.” The sneer came from the other side of the car. Nicaise was putting his shoes back on after he took them off during the ride. They set up two tents: one for the brothers, and the other for Vannes. Laurent’s tent was big enough to house a family.

 

“Jesus, Lau, you could fit the British Army in here.”

 

“It was the only one we had.”

 

“No, it’s not,” came the small voice from behind. Nicaise had returned. “There’s a shitty outhouse a few campsites down. Personally I’d rather take the bushes next time. Smells like saturated ass in there.”

 

“Wonderful.”

 

Vannes shot Laurent a look of disapproval for allowing that kind of language, but the blond appeared only displeased about the current bathroom situation. They were about to throw a bag of dry ice in the cooler when the sound of gravel being rolled-over approached them. A massive red pickup truck barreled its way towards the campsite with boys in the truck bed standing up and yelling like hooligans. Laurent prayed to any existing god in that moment that this was **not** the expected company…

 

…until Vannes started shouting back.

 

* * *

 

Apparently, the definition of ‘civilized’ these days were four college boys who had a tendency to throw things and shout when in good spirits, and a knack for alcohol, as shown by the large assortment of alcoholic pickings in just one cooler. He at least recognized Jord from a few of his classes last April, and decided he was a decent fellow, and maybe this trip wouldn’t be half as bad with him around.

 

Two of the others, he had learned, were named Nikandros and Makedon. Laurent had been observing these two punch each other when the last of the bunch made his way out of the front seat, and the color drained from his face. He knew exactly who this was.

 

Damen Akeil.

 

He couldn’t believe this. There was a dizzying, anxious feeling swelling in his gut that threatened to rise up his throat, but he swallowed it down hard. As much as he wanted to, he couldn’t blame Vannes – she didn’t know. He forced himself to look at the ground and compose himself, and carefully push back memories that shouldn’t be surfacing here, at this particular moment.

 

Laurent wholeheartedly decided this trip was going to be the worst weekend he had ever endured in his college life. If he had shown any discomfort, Vannes hadn’t noticed, and for this there was a wave of relief. Damen slapped the car door shut and practically jogged over to give Vannes a bear hug, slapping Nik’s butt along the way. Nik yelped and Makedon guffawed. He turned to Laurent and gave a surprised look, then held out his hand. Christ, he was huge.

 

“Oh, hey! Vannes told me she was bringing a friend. It’s good to meet you, I’m D–”

 

“I am aware,” Laurent cut him off. Damen’s hand remained outstretched for a few seconds longer before slowly dropping it.

 

“This is Laurent Verett,” Vannes interjected. “He’s an art major from University of Delpha. His brother Nicaise is over there.” She pointed at the boy in front of the fire pit, consumed in a thick book of war history, obviously ignoring the current scene.

 

“Oh…Art major, huh? That’s pretty cool. Nik and I go there too. He’s into Political Science and I’m majoring in Engineering Technology.”

 

“How thrilling,” Laurent deadpanned. He turned to Vannes swiftly. “Does it dance, too?”

 

“It does. On occasion.” Damen smirked. This boy’s high spirits appeared to be fully intact despite the blonde’s lack of warmth.

 

Makedon interrupted from the trunk of the car, “Hey! What are we eating? I’m fuckin’ hungry.”

 

They decided on hot dogs and canned corn, and Jord helped Nicaise start the campfire. ‘Campfire’ was not really the right word, Laurent mused. ‘Small bonfire’ was a more accurate description. The feeling in Laurent’s stomach lingered, and he excused himself to find the bathroom, while having no real intention of ending up there. He just needed to leave, immediately. The walk to the river was only a few minutes, and there were a few hulking flat rocks to sit on near the shore. The sounds of the rushing current drowned out his thoughts. He didn’t think about how long it had been, until the sound of footsteps broke the peace. Nicaise swiftly planted himself next to Laurent on the boulder.

 

“…Lau. Is that who I think it is?” There was no reason to lie, not to Nicaise.

 

“Yeah,” he breathed.

 

“Oh.” Nicaise was quiet for a few minutes, and they gazed at the white water together. “I don’t think he knows…who we are, I mean… or that…”

 

Laurent was silent. His eyes didn’t stray from the water crashing over rocks.

 

“Let’s go back. I think Vannes said something about marshmallows, and when I left they were talking about shit to do this weekend.”

 

Nicaise stood; Laurent followed suit.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading this, everyone! I'll try to update weekly or at the very least, bi-weekly. I hope you all have a nice weekend!


End file.
